Well, first off, Photopia did not manage to make me cry; however, it did leave me depressed, which is an accomplishment in itself. I found myself easily frustrated by the site. I didn’t want to cheat, so I labored on. The most difficult pages for me to get through were the Wendy/dream themed ones. I don’t think I ever want to type “Go north/south/east/west” ever again. I was also frustrated by the scifi theme that so starkly contrasted with the more normal narrative pages, but I came to appreciate them once I learned where they came from.
As for the story, it did make me sad. I had a feeling something bad would happen to Alley when she was young. Darwin didn’t seem to be working overtime for a little girl who jumps in a pool to check out if it looks different from underwater. The car accident was sad and senseless. The little pieces of Alley’s waking life were all happy. It’s easy to imagine her date the following Saturday if she had not gotten into the wreck, or everything turning out differently if she had gone to the dance as opposed to babysitting. The one piece of the story that bothered me was the photopia itself. Alley’s parents note that she seems enamored by it as a baby, but it led to her having strange and unpleasant dreams all of the time, along with the creepy one of her talking to the older and cursed version of herself. Would Alley’s dreams have been left uncorrupted if she didn’t have the photopia? Or was it inevitable? It struck me that the thing her parents bought to comfort and inspire her ended up contributing to the tale of her demise.
Although I was frustrated by navigating the site, I did appreciate the little witty comebacks they had at the ready. At one point I had typed “kill”- Who?, the site politely asked, “me”, whereby the computer discouraged me from such senseless violence. Or if I tried to pick up the broken shovel, “The shovel is not useful anymore.” Well, thanks, I hadn’t realized that. That’s one aspect of interactive storytelling that really differs from regular old books… here, you have to work for it. I’ll admit, I did get frustrated, but the payoff when I would finally type the right thing (for once) and be rewarded with a paragraph was almost euphoric. It made me more aware of the story and more eager for details to emerge.